


Sammy

by malekin



Series: Destiel Drabbles [4]
Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 16:02:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2658008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malekin/pseuds/malekin





	Sammy

Initially, he’d devoted his days (and nights) to finding Dean and a way to reverse what the mark had done. But now, Sam’s pain and anger had long ago been spent. After months of chasing Dean’s macabre scenes, his declarations written out for them in violence, well, Sam saw it all with a tired resignation. And where before his hottest desire had been to save, now, now he just wanted Dean. Cursed or cured, he just needed his brother. 

Cas never commented on his change from coffee to whiskey. It wasn’t exactly solace that he found at the bottom of the glass, but it did blunt the edges and deaden that ache. Cas also kept blessedly quiet about the fact that it took more to get him there, slowly building bottle by bottle. After all, it took more of everything to get him anywhere now.

When he did sleep, he was plagued by nightmares filled with blood, darkness, and guilt; and sometimes in that dark, he’d be a little boy again. The one who woke up in a panic and reached across the chasm between their beds to grasp his big brother’s hand. The brother who would pull him up, wrapping an arm around him before whispering to stop being such a wuss, and don’t even think about hogging the pillow. 

But that hand was gone, and with its absence he felt lost, purpose seemed to drift. Sam wasn’t a hunter anymore, monsters didn’t whisper about him in fear. More like derision. He knew what he should do, he should be out there doing his damn job. Protecting innocents and stopping Dean before more people got caught in their strange and deadly family drama.

Instead he spent his nights crawling bar after bar in search of something, anything, to drive his need back down. Sex, violence, any debauchery that would leave him exhausted and aching. Afterwards, when he lay in bed, it wasn’t peaceful, but it was a moment, somewhere between the shadows and nightmares where he could exist undisturbed, waiting for Cas to stumble in so he could feign sleep. A courtesy for the broken angel who took it gratefully, falling into the bed to Sam’s right.

He wasn’t sure if Cas slept, if his grace had deteriorated to that point, but Sam did know he had a secret. He knew he had a purpose when he left so often, but he didn’t push and he didn’t ask. He was afraid that if Cas told him the reason he came back reeking of Hell, that one night he wouldn’t find that numbness at the bottom of a whiskey bottle and one night he wouldn’t care anymore what Dean had become. Wouldn’t care what he would become.

Sammy just wanted his brother again, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from following all the way to damnation if Dean lead the way.


End file.
